


The Queen's Pride

by Kereea



Series: The Wonderverse [1]
Category: DCU, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: F/M, grandmotherly pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prolouge to the Wonderverse as a whole.<br/>Queen Hippolyta looks at the mess of youngsters Diana has essentially mothered over the years and can feel proud of these children of Man’s World, these children of Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen's Pride

They were all so very different. She had met Richard and Jason when they were still quite young, but now it was a mere eight years later and the foundlings of Batman never ceased to amaze her…especially in their contact with Diana.

 Diana’s relationship with Batman had always been rather…complicated. And yet with the children it seemed simple, they placed her as their mother-figure easily, adoring her and all she did. Diana had even gone through the trouble of making a civilian identity—Dana Prince, if Hippolyta remembered correctly—in order to interact with them more.

 Richard was the eldest son, the heir, and yet he acted younger than his twenty mortal years, often joking and flipping about with such grace that Hippolyta honestly forgot he couldn’t fly like Diana. He even looked like he could be a child of Bruce Wayne and Diana of Themiscera, with thick black hair, wide blue eyes, and a smile that could easily be mistaken as a mirror for her daughter’s. He went by Nightwing now, independent and sure of himself, and yet bound to his home for the sake of his littlest brother all the same.

 Hippolyta could not fault him. She knew the bond a person could feel for a small being who seemed to rely so much on only you, and it made her soul swell with pride when Richard seemed to break through to the little one’s well-hidden heart.

 Jason…Jason was probably the one she could most likely call “grandson”. Diana had saved him when his own mother had tried to do him in, and he was forever changed by the event, the child who frankly belonged as much to Wonder Woman as to Batman. When he was still young he’d even started to call her his mother, and a more warrior-born young man Hippolyta had yet to meet. With his fiery hair and fighting skill, she’d certainly give him a run to impersonate Ares when he was older.

 At eighteen, Jason now called himself the Red Hood, mockingly taking the former name of the madman who’d tried to kill him. He was a brave boy, a strong boy, and his prowess and combat abilities were admirable. Another worthy grandson.

 She wasn’t quite sure who was the third, Timothy or Cassandra. They had come about around the same time, from Diana’s tales. Cassandra was…well, so beautifully dangerous a warrior it was easy for Hippolyta and others to at first believe her to be Diana’s own daughter. Alas the girl’s mother was a wicked woman instead, but she found solace in Gotham, the city of hell, her skills used to save the weak and unfortunate and unlucky as the second Batgirl to prowl the streets.

 Timothy was brilliant. She suspected some subtle blessing from Athena _had_ to be involved, but the boy was quite simply a genius. He was not as strong as his siblings—just about all of them could outfight him at any time—but he was cunning and tricky. While others might dismiss trickery as dishonorable, Hippolyta knew that on the battlefield, especially a battlefield like Gotham, you used all you had. The boy had a mind unmatched—why should he not take advantage?

 They were both sixteen now, by her count, and Timothy the third Robin. The fourth, Stephanie, had been a near-tragedy. Then again, her whole life read like the tragedies of old, save for her own refusal to give into misery. Daughter of a wicked man, nearly killed by another wicked man, accidentally manipulated by the man she called a mentor…well, Hippolyta hadn’t heard the whole story, but from what Alfred had told her over tea, the girl had nearly died and Diana had some rather cross words with Bruce over it.

 Stephanie called herself the Spoiler, and was rather fun to observe in action. Like Richard she quipped and like Timothy she tricked, blending both with some training from Diana and Gotham’s Oracle into a style all her own. Fifteen, Hippolyta believed was her age, though she might have been wrong.

 Then there was the youngest. Oh, the youngest. Hippolyta had never understood Man’s World’s science well, so Diana had explained it in magical terms: a female ally of Batman’s who was the daughter of one of his enemies made a sort of ritual to grant her a child that was the “perfect” combination of both herself and Batman, thus granting her the son known as Damian.

 Damian was an impetuous boy of nine who assumed and insulted with a tongue sharper than Hermes’ had ever been. Richard he cared for, though, and something his mother had done to or said of Richard—something Diana did not know—had driven the boy fully to his father. He sometimes ran the streets with Richard, but thus far had no name for when he did.

 He’d never seemed to care much for Diana, from what her daughter had told her…until one day when Diana had stormed into the palace and demanded a curse from the Gods be placed on Talia al Ghul, who had once again performed the ritual in order to replace her son and wholly turned from the side of justice. Hippolyta had agreed with the assessment, and Hera was merrily plotting vengeance even now. The woman would likely be in for a rude shock in the near future.

 And now here she sat, watching the children of Gotham and their parents deal with some thugs who had thought to interrupt her political meeting with the state governor.

 Damian neatly sliced an opponent’s Achilles tendon as Stephanie tripped another into Cassandra’s roundhouse kick. Timothy tied the thugs to columns and chairs without their noticing so Jason could pounce in and beat them within an inch of their lives without difficulty. Richard danced through the gang, knocking them silly with his metal batons.

 And Bruce and Diana? Well, this “Bane” fellow was clearly rethinking his plan, by the looks of things.

 “This why you asked for Gotham City, your highness?” the governor asked. “For the show?”

 “Oh no, I simply knew I’d be well-protected here. This city has excellent heroes.”

 And _she_ had excellent grandchildren.

 


End file.
